Fear Grows Among Iraqis in U.S. Employ

by Daniel Williams

18 November 2003

MOSUL, Iraq, Nov. 17 – At city hall, the Iraqis who interpret for the Americans were silent, and other employees who cooperate with the United States refused to identify themselves to a reporter on Monday.

Even the media relations official who usually speaks to the Iraqi press gave his name only reluctantly. "I guess a media representative who doesn't represent himself isn't doing his job," Yaarub Ghanem said. "But you have to understand. We are all scared. We are under threat. Our families are in danger. It's easy to kill us."

Two days ago, gunmen killed Khalid Victor Paul, an interpreter, and his teenage son, Leith, as they were driving to a school. It was the third time since Oct. 29 that Iraqis supporting the occupation had been killed in Mosul, about 215 miles north of Baghdad. A journalist and a judge investigating human rights abuses under deposed president Saddam Hussein were previously gunned down.

A week ago, assassins tried to kill a manager in charge of distributing fuel products throughout northern Iraq while he was driving his college-age son to school. The manager escaped death but his son was killed.

Iraqis under the pay of U.S.-led occupation authorities are deeply worried. Some interpreters have quit, Ghanem said, and others are thinking about it. "I consider it myself all the time. I feel I am being watched," he said. "Of course, I would try to find a replacement first, to keep things running smoothly."

Mosul, the largest city in the north, is heavily populated by former high-ranking army officers and members of Hussein's Baath Party. The U.S. military suspects they are trying to create the kind of insecurity that has infected Baghdad and towns in central Iraq.

The killing of Paul, the interpreter, was intended to hinder the work of U.S. troops, Iraqis say. "Translators are the ears and mouth of the Americans," Ghanem said. "Without translators, they are working in a vacuum. The people who killed Khalid understand this. The occupation can't work without them, foreign contractors can't operate here without them."

Paul, 41, had been under threat for weeks. Letters had been slipped under the door of his Mosul home telling him to quit. A week ago, someone broke into his house and stole only one item: a rifle. "Khalid believed the message was clear," his widow, Shada Konstantin Abdullah, said during an interview. "You have no protection."

Cars filled with glowering men followed his son and daughter home from school. Paul had only days ago transferred his son to a school close to home.

It made no difference. At 7:30 a.m. Saturday, as Paul's Toyota pulled onto the main road, a blue Volkswagen Passat reportedly pulled alongside him. Someone inside opened fire.

"The fear is such that no one on the scene has said anything to police," Ghanem said. "We only know about the car by someone who heard it from someone who heard it from someone." Iraqi police have not visited the Paul family to gather testimony.

Family members and friends gathered for a Catholic memorial Mass on Monday. The priest at Annunciation Church, Najeeb Michael, gave an emotional homily. "The evil hand is at work. Terrorism is killing the innocent, killing for nothing," he said. "They carry out their murders, it's true. We must fight with the sword of justice."

After Mass, he told a reporter: "There is a clear effort to separate the Americans from the Iraqis. Khalid used to say that all the translators were targets. He said he did not want to be the one to quit." Michael said he did not believe Paul's religion determined his fate in this overwhelmingly Muslim city.

For three years before the U.S. occupation of Iraq, Paul made a living driving a taxi. He had been laid off from his job as interpreter for a foreign company. He saw the interpreter job for the Americans as a way to get ahead in the work he had prepared himself for in school, his wife said. "He was happy at work," she said.

Ghanem said Paul worked long hours and was constantly on the streets with U.S. troops.

The need for work keeps many Iraqis on the job with occupation authorities, said a young computer programmer in city hall. "I stay, because with Saddam Hussein, there was no place for my skills. There were no computers for the public. Now I have a chance. I have a pistol to defend myself. But I don't believe in it. Only Allah can defend me." He echoed Ghanem's words about their predicament, saying, "We are easy to kill."

The widowed Shada Konstantin Abdullah offered a warning for those who remain with the Americans. "You are staying to help your family and your country, but others don't see it that way. Be afraid. Be afraid," she said as she wept.